


only in town one night

by aMassiveDisappointment (BadOldWest)



Series: tumblr prompts [5]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- Friends With Benefits, F/M, Friends With Benefits, I'm really proud of this premise so I'm milking it, Jetsetter Friends With Benefits, Jetsetters, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-11-28 21:03:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11426139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadOldWest/pseuds/aMassiveDisappointment
Summary: Cassian travels for business, Jyn for pleasure. But when they're in the same city, they meet halfway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I AM TOO EXTRA TO LIVE.

_“I told you, I’m only in town one night,”_ she begins knotting a scarf around her hair, which is a mess from a rough night under his grip. She begins to dress in the standard he’s recognized from her, a full set of lingerie under a dress under a trench coat. Layers he wasn’t sure women still used anymore, like a proper lady from the 1950′s; only meant to be worn to do wicked deeds. She wore gloves during the day, sunglasses unless in the darkest of places, scarves around her hair, like she was hiding from the authorities. But if she was on the run, it certainly was not in the heels she subjected herself to. He asked if she was, once, and she laughed airily, replying, “What a strange question.”

Which was not a ‘no’.

Cassian wasn’t sure how he got involved with international woman of mystery, Kestrel Dawn, which was the fakest of fake names he had ever heard, but he wasn’t going to fight it. It certainly made life less boring. 

He thought it only happened in movies, a leather-gloved hand slipping a sleek black card in his pocket, her room key, a wordless walk to the elevator. She didn’t even turn to face him and the doors when she led him into the compartment, waiting until the ding and the weak-kneed moment of weightlessness before whispering, “I’m not sure what the etiquette of this is-”

And he figured it was only appropriate to kiss her. And press her to the wall of the rising chamber, her pleased laugh dying against his lips when he hoisted her up by the thighs to wrap them around his waist. 

There were expectations he had while making eyes at the brunette across the bar, but most of them involved small talk and a lot more blushing. 

Kestrel wasn’t a blusher. 

They had met because they happened to be in the same city, which was the same reason they met every time now. 

He is still naked, watching the flurry of her putting herself back together into that untraceable beauty. He can stay in bed all day, no matter what city he’s in, she jumps up at first light. 

He reaches across the bed, smirking, grabbing the dress she was trying to put right-side-out. He was sloppy with her clothes, something that annoyed her. 

“You can stay an hour more. Have breakfast with me.”

“I prefer to eat breakfast on my feet, especially by the Seine this time of year,” she sighs, pulling her stockings up her thighs. 

“I’ll go with you. I just need to call one client first.”

She shakes her head, her eyeliner smudged around her wicked eyes. “That’s why you travel for business and I travel for pleasure.”

She pulls on a lace bodysuit that should not exist in the real world, just his and hers. He’s always bitter to see her go, she looks so nice he can’t help but want it to always be for him. 

He pulls her bag onto her lap, a modestly aged but flawlessly maneuvered Louis Vuitton, not because he felt the need to sort through her things, but her packing method was so methodical and efficient he was awed by how light she traveled and how she seemed to have a Mary Poppins bag of tricks on her. 

He finds a secret compartment, smirking. 

“Now this is sexy,” he shows her what he found, the planner of sleek leather and a lot of business cards, maps, travel documents; everything in one place.

She smirks. 

“Kestrel, tell me, are you stealing a priceless diamond while you’re in Paris? You can tell me.”

She shakes her head, snapping her stockings to the garter belt she secured around her waist. 

She adjusts the knot of the scarf around her head. “Do I really look like a jewel thief?”

“How do you get the money for all this travel?”

She pulls her bag away from him, zipping it shut pissily. 

“What did I say about questions?”

He rolls his eyes. “Are you incriminating me?”

He felt lighter with her, no matter how bad of an idea it was. She manages to shake her head before she laughs. He examines her progress, which has only been undergarments. 

All this time spent dressing and still looking so indecent. 

He slides his tie free from the arm of a nearby chair, where it had been carelessly thrown the night before. catching her by the wrist and trapping it in the silky material. She glances up at him, surprised, but her face challenges him the minute he sets a limitation on her. 

“One more hour, you’ll still be where you need to go tonight.”

He leads her wrist to the bedpost, securing it with a question in his eyes. She smiles. Wordlessly stretches herself out on the bedspread in front of him. Lets her unbound arm flop uselessly towards the other bedpost. 

“You had one night, was it not enough?”

He looks smug, and she sort of likes it.

“Who knows when I’ll see you again?”

“Argentina? Is that when we said-”

His lips slide down her neck as he pulls the scarf around her hair free, ruining her neat exterior as he ties her other wrist. 

“I just got dressed,” she grumbles, but she let him get her this way.

“Has that ever stopped me?”

He slides down her body, kissing her thighs. He knows there’s a reason she saw him twice. Not everyone got that honor. He doesn’t want to waste a minute of it.

The bodysuit unsnaps from between her legs, a genius invention. He like keeping her stockings on for this, his fingers can pluck the elastic of the braces so the snap against her skin. He does just that. 

She pulls against the ties, already regretting to loss of her hands. 

“Now that I’ve got you like this, we’ll see if I want to be done in an hour.”

Her head falls back, indignant. “I have plans tonight.”

“I have plans, right now, for you.”

He licks her gently, moaning at the taste of her, She struggles against her restraints. There’s stubble against her thighs, and that sensation, no matter the city, is a rare constant, and one she’d like to keep that way. 

He’s a man of his word, but he takes every damn minute of that hour to eat her pussy like he’s defusing a bomb. Kestrel comes easily once, agonizingly teased the second time, fluttery and innumerable when he works up a quick, steady pace. All she wants is use of her hands, the ability to ride his face -her heels are still on so there’s no way to ground herself on the mattress- but instead of freeing her hands he just gives her his own, as she whimpers out orders about her nipples and ass and pussy. He complies, while still making it sweet torture, which is exactly why she likes him. 

Maybe she  _can_  stop in Copenhagen to see him next weekend, since her trip to Argentina is three weeks away. She’ll remember to update her planner when he’s done. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “i just discovered that you can buy vibrators at the airport, but while i was trying to load my bag into the overhead compartment on the plane, it fell out and landed right in your lap. how am i supposed to spend the next four hours sitting next to you and not die of embarrassment???”

“Well  _someone_  can’t even keep it in their pants.”

Kestrel smiled cheekily at Cassian as his fist closed around the very obvious bullet vibe that tumbled out of his bag and straight onto her thigh. She re-crossed her legs, covering her mouth with her hand. 

Convincing her to reschedule her weekend plans for a flight to Greece was already risky, and he just barely hauled her onto the plane with him, so his one attempt at do anything special that night was already foiled in the least sexy setting ever. 

He slid into his seat, staring at the safety procedure brochure. She laughed, kissing his brow. 

“Please seduce me somewhere with more leg room,” she pleaded, resting her head on his shoulder before returning to her journal. It was stuffed with programs, business cards of restaurants written in anything from Kanji to Arabic, only first names referenced in her scrawl, and he was  _dying_  to get a moment alone with it to try and figure her out. 

For someone keeping such a low profile, she never hesitated to melt into acting like a couple in public. He had a suspicion she liked melting into different people, and she was only one of them with him. 

He grabbed her hand during take-off, an anxiety he never admitted to anyone, regretful because she was such a seasoned traveler, but she squeezed back easily. 

They didn’t make it somewhere with more leg room. After a complimentary glass of wine, Cassian stroked her hair out of her eyes and asked in a low voice about her mile-high-club status, and she smiled like the Mona Lisa. 

They worked it out with a blanket, her thigh draped over the shared armrest, checking for people waking from their in-flight siesta around them. The coast was clear. His fingers teased, she stared out the window with a flush illuminating her cheeks. She flinched when the vibrator teased her entrance, then slid easily inside her wetness, humming against a spot that Cassian could find even if he was blindfolded and spun around ten times. It was soundless, a feature that was really going to be necessary for her to ask some follow-up-questions about. 

He left it in longer than he should, but Kestrel’s gentle squeaking and shaking at his side was too good to pass up another round. He stroked his fingers idly on her thigh as she trembled, held open by the armrest, so she couldn’t close her legs no matter how hard she tried. His lips found her neck and his words found her ear when she pulled it free from her body after many messy orgasms with a shaking hand. He plucked it from her hand and shamelessly slipped into into his jacket pocket after turning it off. She laughed breathlessly, allowing him to kiss her sweaty face and squeeze her hand as she had done for him earlier. 

_“Just wait until we have more leg room.”_


	3. Chapter 3

“I am supposed to be doing some work this weekend.”

Kestrel glares at him, stripping off her coat and tossing it over one of the chairs in the hotel room. Her face is poised with a question. 

He sighs. “Three calls, tops. Two hours.”

She motions towards the window. “Two hours better spent in Santorini?”

Cassian is already on his phone, nodding as though  _she was just so right about that._  “It’s my job, Kestrel.”

“You can’t put a cost on  _two hours in Santorini_ ,” his laptop sounds with a Skype Call, he picks it up without answering her. 

Sighing, she pulls a bikini out of her suitcase, untying the back of her halter dress. He mouths a sincere “sorry” at her, covering the webcam, and she feels sorry for him for a brief moment, because he wouldn’t be doing this if he had any choice, there just was a great demand for his attention. He lavished her in attention, a disproportionate amount. More than he could really give, and she could tell it was taking a toll. 

He says his hello to the conference of callers, muting as soon as his presence was confirmed. 

“We’ll be at the beach before you know it. I’ll meet you there.”

She smiles, patting his cheek patronizingly. 

“I feel like an old married couple,” she simpers, and he knows that’s not a compliment. 

She goes to the ice bucket of complimentary champagne, which for a less seasoned traveler would be intimidating. With her bookings, she usually got champagne  _and_  chocolate. 

She lets her dress fall as she takes a swig, stepping out of it as Cassian utters quiet confirmations he’s listening to whoever’s talking. He lifts his eyes to her, smiling as he bends over his phone, pulling something up on his laptop. He’s more than used to her bouts of liberating nudity, feeling like he was in a cheesy 1970′s erotic drama filmed in the South of France whenever she was hanging around. 

But Jyn gets an idea to make him lose that comfort. 

She digs through his bag instead of hers, which he doesn’t notice because he’s deep in thought. It’s not in the pocket it should be. 

Then she remembers the flight here, and what’s in his jacket. 

She crawls forward, and he accepts her kiss on his free hand absent-mindedly. She unbuckles his belt, undoes his fly. He lifts the computer and places it on the table to the side. He swivels, she chases him, her lips seeking him, half-hard already. 

Smugly, he lets her tease him with her lips and gentle sucks. Enough to stroke his ego, and himself, but he’s nowhere near cumming with a webcam trained on his face. But sure, if Kestrel wants him  _this much,_  what kind of man would he be to push her away.

Now for her true aim. She pulls the vibrator out of his suit jacket pocket. She sits on the floor in front of him, her back pressed against the bed. She holds it up. Turns it on.

It’s silent, it’s why he chose that model, but there is a vibration that is sensed. He lifts his eyes to her. Locks onto what’s in her hand. 

He nods, once.  _Go ahead._

“I’d like us to go forward with this,” he says to whoever’s on the phone, but she smirks at the double meaning. She teases the vibe along the curve of her cleavage, establishing a contact that she arches to keep. The prolonged touch works wonders, Cassian misses a breath, asking the caller to repeat something. 

“I’m in Santorini, connection is hell. I may have to cancel my calls for the afternoon.”

Kestrel smirks, pressing her breasts up in her hands to plump them for Cassian. He keeps his eyes locked on what her hands are doing, the way they drop for the bullet vibe to stroke its way up a thigh. Her shoulders roll back when it comes into contact with her body. She arches, letting her lips form what would be a moan; but silent. 

Cassian looks pissed when she glances up at him. She smiles, riding against her hand, her mouth opening and closing in silent pleasure. She lets her hips slide forward to lie fully on the ground, giving Cassian the full show as she ends up between his feet. 

Her toes caress his ankle. He kicks back absently. 

“I trust your judgement. Consult me for any fires you need to put out, otherwise, I don’t exist until I get back on Monday. Are we clear?”

Jyn giggles at the confirmation over the call, sliding the bullet inside of her. He shushes her.

She hears the laptop slam shut, and a large hand replaces her, a mouth latches to her breast. 

“Is this what we came to Santorini for?” he looks slightly amused, so the moment of guilt passes slower than she anticipated. He’s prioritizing  _her,_  and that scares her. 

He doesn’t even know her. Not really. 

She pulls him down into a kiss to distract herself, and with the full length of his body pressing down on her, she writhes her way into completion. 

For being a good sport, he gets to resume where they left off when he was in the chair. She feels guilty for all the rugburn, but it’s better than the cramps they would have gotten in the bathroom on the plane. 

There’s still plenty of time to go to the beach afterwards. She tries not to laugh when tourists hiss sympathetically on the red marks all over his back, asking if he used enough sunscreen. He squeezes her hip good naturedly every time. 


End file.
